


I put a spell on you (because you're mine)

by Zara_Zee



Series: Soulmates [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bonding, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Religion, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zee/pseuds/Zara_Zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magus Jared Padalecki was just trying to study for his exams. He didn’t mean to let his magic claim the hot green-eyed stranger sitting opposite him in the library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Whether Witches can Sway the Minds of Men to Love”

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I have borrowed the names and faces of certain actors without their knowledge or approval. Said actors belong to themselves and I have merely cast them in my fiction. Not a word of this is true; I’ve just got them playing parts.  
>  Any family members mentioned are strictly OCs as I don’t personally like to cast non-actors in my fictional dramas!

 

 

Jared Padalecki was snowed under. He had major end-of-semester papers due for every single subject, and every single one of his subjects had an end of semester exam too.  Jared rubbed the heel of his palm against the bridge of his nose and groaned. He hadn’t even _started_ studying for his exams yet, which meant that for the next week he was going to be surviving on No-Doze and way too many cups of the red-eye special from Starbucks.   

Jared took a sip of his now-cold coffee and curled his lips in distaste. He pulled his hood further forward to better block out the people studying around him and switched playlists on his i-phone, trading in Jay-Z for a classical mix. He adjusted the volume on his noise-cancelling headphones and then closed his eyes and let Pachelbel’s Canon in D wash over him.  What idiot had thought that doing a double degree would be a good idea? Oh yeah, that’d be him. And the stress? Really not good for him. Not good at all.

Jared took a deep breath and tried to center himself, focusing on keeping his emotions corralled inside himself. It was a new technique that he’d learned from Genevieve when he joined the campus Magus Pride Club. Of all the things Jared loved about California, the way it accepted the magi was his favorite. Jared was Out, back home in Texas—what with both his parents and his younger sister being magi and his mom being an outspoken magi activist, it wasn’t like he’d ever really had a choice—and for the most part he hadn’t encountered too much overt prejudice. But that didn’t mean that he was immune to the general attitude of disapproval that permeated his home state. His own circle of family and friends may have been liberal and magi-positive, but out there in the Holy-fire-belt, if you were magi, you still had to be careful. It really wasn’t like that in California and Jared loved it.

Jared was still sitting with his eyes closed, running through his breathing and centering exercises when something hit him on the chest. He looked down at the crumpled ball of paper sitting on his Physics notes and frowned at it before glancing up uncertainly… into the most gorgeous pair of big, green eyes it had ever been his pleasure to look at. The eyes were set in a perfectly proportioned, pretty, yet masculine, face, which also had a cute button nose, full bowed lips that Jared was already fantasizing about kissing, and (Jared’s heart may possibly have fluttered a little) an adorable smattering of light freckles across the nose and cheekbones.

Unfortunately, the attractive face was currently scowling at Jared, lips moving, and Jared scrambled to push his hood back and yank his headphones off.

“Sorry, what?” he said.

The man’s brow furrowed even further and he gestured impatiently above his head. “Do something about _this_!” he snapped.

Jared lifted his eyes from the man’s face and immediately blanched. “Oh shit. Oh _shit_ , I’m so sorry. Shit.”

Dancing above the guy’s head were sparkly, rainbow-colored swirls; a physical manifestation of Jared’s magic. Jared called them back and reintegrated them immediately, his face flushing. God; how embarrassing. It was considered really bad manners to lose control of your magic like that; people might laugh at a young magi child for losing control and an older child might be gently reprimanded for doing so, but for an adult to be so uncontrolled was met with real disapproval.

“I’m so sorry,” Jared said again, once he’d reined in his wayward magic. “I didn’t mean to. And I know that’s no excuse. I’m just so stressed out at the moment. All my subjects have exams. And end of semester papers. And for some stupid reason I thought it’d be a good idea to do a double degree and my parents said I wouldn’t cope and… Oh God. I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Jared put his face in his hands. Way to look like a complete freak in front of the hottest guy he’d seen since he came to Stanford. “Shut up, Jared. Just…shut up.”

“Jared?”

Jared peeked through his fingers at the hot guy. The guy’s eyes were wide and he looked slightly bemused. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Jensen.”

Jared dropped his hands from his face and grinned. It occurred to him fleetingly that if he were one of his dogs, who, sadly, were back home in Texas, his tongue would be hanging out, his ears would be perked forward and his tail would be thumping madly on the ground, but he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Jensen nodded. “Just…try not to let it happen again,” he frowned. “And don’t turn me into a toad or anything.”

Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “Not possible,” he said. “I mean, aside from the fact that you could never be as ugly as a toad, it’s simply not thaumaturgically possible to turn a living creature into another type of living creature. It’s way too complex, you’d just end up maiming or killing whatever it was you were trying to change.”

Jensen’s eyes widened even further and he looked a lot less reassured than Jared had hoped. Which…okay, perhaps mentioning maiming and killing had been a bad idea?

“Not that I have any plans to maim or kill you,” he said hurriedly. “That would be illegal. Not to mention wrong and I’m just gonna shut up now, okay?”

Jensen licked his lips. “No maiming or killing,” he said. “Good plan. I’m totally on board with that,” he cleared his throat. “So. You’re doing a double-degree?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah. Mechanical Engineering and Thaumaturgy.”

Jensen’s eyebrows rose. “You’re studying magic?”

“And Mechanical Engineering,” Jared nodded. “Which actually go together a lot better than you’d think.”

Jensen sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and Jared tracked the movement with interest. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jensen said, “but, uh…” he paused and seemed to switch directions. “That is a faint Texan twang I’m detecting in your accent, right?”

Jared nodded. “Sure. You can take the boy outta Texas,” he shrugged. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“I’m from the Lone Star State myself,” Jensen said, letting his own accent off leash.

“Wow,” Jared grinned. “I did not pick that. You’ve really lost the accent.”

“Yeah.”  Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “It comes out when I’m real tired. Or drunk. But, uh, I’ve been out here over three years now and, plus,” he hesitated. “Plus I’ve had some voice coaching.”

“Voice coaching?” Jared shook his head. “You were that keen to separate yourself from your roots?”

Jensen’s cheeks flushed pink. “No. It’s just, uh. I do modelling. It beats bussing tables, right? It’s mostly catwalk and catalogue stuff, but my agent thought she might be able to get me some television commercials if I lost the accent, so…”

Jared’s jaw didn’t hit the desk in front of him, but it was a close thing. Of course Jensen—with his perfectly symmetrical face—was a model. Jensen earned money by being beautiful. Jared—awkward, gangly, dorky Jared— didn’t stand a chance.

“Wow,” he mumbled. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah,” Jensen voiced his agreement, but he sounded dispirited. “Anyway, what I was going to say was, uh, do you really think that studying magic is the right thing to do? I mean, I know you can’t help _being_ a—” Jensen cut himself off and frowned, “a, uh, a thaumaturgist, that’s inside you, no matter what. But you don’t have to actively participate in the lifestyle.”

And just like that, all of Jared’s fantasies went icy cold. He gave a short, ugly laugh. “Okay, first off,” he leaned forward, his voice low and hard, “we prefer the term ‘magus’.  _Thaumaturgist_ is so clinical and scientific. And I don’t even wanna know what slur you were planning on calling me if _thaumaturgist_ is the politest term you could come up with. Secondly; let me guess? Church of the Holy Fire, right? You think I’m in league with the devil. You think that the Burning Times were justified and not a goddamn holocaust, and deep down you think that I should be burnt at the stake. Am I right?”

“No!” Jensen’s response was immediate and heartfelt. “No. I mean, I _was_ brought up in The Church of the Holy Fire. And my family is, uh, pretty devout. But, uh, I just…your life would be so much easier if you would just _act_ normal, you know? Not flout your magic.”      

Jared started gathering his books and packing them into his backpack. “I am normal, Jensen. I’m a perfectly normal magus. And practicing magic is a perfectly normal activity for a magus. Also?” he shouldered his backpack. “Fuck you.”

He strode toward the door, letting his anger and his long legs carry him quickly to the exit. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with prejudice and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier and it never stopped hurting. He was almost at the door when an outraged shout had him spinning around defensively.

Jensen was rapidly closing the distance between them, his face twisted with fury. “What the Hell did you do to me, you Goddamn _witch_!”   

Jared drew himself up to his full height and faced him down. “I didn’t do anything,” he said calmly.

The librarian frowned at them from behind her desk and made a loud shushing noise.

Jensen grabbed ahold of Jared’s arm and dragged him out into the hallway. “Like Hell, you didn’t,” he hissed from between clenched teeth. “You bewitched me.”

Jared shook Jensen off and then ran a tired hand across his forehead. “Okay. How about you just explain to me what it is you think I’ve done?”

Jensen sneered at him. “Like you don’t know!”

Jared stared at him and then shook his head, turned his back and strode down the hall toward the building’s exit.

Jensen hurried after him. “Don’t you walk away from me! Seriously, Jared,” his voice lowered plaintively, “it hurts when you do.”

And that brought Jared crashing to a standstill. “What?” he turned slowly and ran his eyes carefully over Jensen. “What do you mean?”

Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck and averted his eyes. “It hurts. Like I’m being stretched on the rack or something,” he chewed on his bottom lip. “And I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to call you…what I called you. I just…panicked.”

Jared nodded, eyes roving over Jensen, taking in his very real distress and…uh…oh shit.

“Jensen?” he said faintly. “I’m pretty sure…you didn’t have a tattoo on your neck earlier, did you?”

Jensen shook his head. “The Book of Rules forbids tattoos. Why?”

Jared described the swirling rainbow tattoo that was wrapped around Jensen’s neck and watched as Jensen paled visibly.

“Make it go away,” he pleaded.

When Jared explained that he had no idea how or why it had appeared, Jensen looked skeptical.

“I really don’t,” Jared insisted. “But I do know someone who might.”

 

 

 

It was just his luck, Jensen thought glumly, that the hottest guy he’d met in four years at Stanford, would turn out to be a wi— a magus.

Jensen sighed. The magi only made up about 5% of the population and while Jensen was sure he’d been in their presence during his time in California, he hadn’t actually seen anyone practicing magic for a very long time. And, okay, he didn’t go to those sorts of places; didn’t go to the clubs and bars where the magi hung out, but he’d really thought that he’d outgrown his parents’ prejudices; that he was liberated and cosmopolitan.

Jensen sighed again and appreciated the nice view he had of Jared’s ass. The magus was a good five steps ahead of him and, really, Jensen didn’t blame him at all for wanting to keep some distance between them. All it had taken was for Jared’s magic to swirl around Jensen’s head and he was a terrified six-year-old again, listening to Pastor Roberts thunder on about witchcraft and the devil, praising _Malleus Maleficarum_ and the righteousness of the Salem witch trials and the Spanish inquisition. And then… that God awful pulling, burning sensation when Jared had walked away. Jensen had panicked, maybe understandably, but he wasn’t proud of himself.

Why did Jared have to have such long legs? He was really striding ahead now and Jensen was struggling to keep up with him. Whenever Jensen lagged too far behind—like more than about seven steps— his entire body started to ache.

Jared rounded a corner and the moment he could no longer see him, Jensen spasmed in agony. He felt like chewing gum, stretched until he began to break apart and the pain made him sob.

“Jensen!” the pain began to fade rapidly. Jensen was sprawled on the ground and Jared was holding him by the shoulders. “Shit, Jensen. Are you okay?”

Jensen pulled himself into a sitting position. “Better now you’re here,” he said, trying really hard not to feel self-conscious about that fact. “Whatever’s going on, it didn’t like it when you went around the corner and I couldn’t see you.”

Jared was staring down at him with genuine concern, his eyes wide and soulful and his brow furrowed. Jensen flushed a little under the scrutiny. It was sort of nice. He could definitely get used to it.

Jared helped him to his feet and then stuck right by his side. Jensen could feel him radiating tension as they continued, shoulder to shoulder, down the corridor.

“You know this isn’t something I’m doing deliberately, right?” Jared said eventually. “I would never hurt another person like this on purpose.”

“I know,” Jensen said. And he did. He may have only known him for fifteen minutes or so, but Jared came across as a genuine, likeable person. Jensen didn’t think he had it in him to be needlessly cruel.

“So,” Jensen cleared his throat. “Where are we going, anyway? You said you thought you knew someone who could help us figure out what’s going on?”

“Yeah. Professor Morgan, my Thaumaturgy lecturer. If anyone’s gonna know, it’s gonna be him.”

Jensen nodded. “Is he a…you know?”

Jared tensed beside him. “A magus? Yeah, he is. I thought that was pretty well known.”

Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck. “I stay away from that sort of stuff,” he stopped walking suddenly and grabbed at Jared’s sleeve to hold him back. “I’m not prejudiced,” he said. “I don’t care if some people have magic. It’s just that so many people _do_ care and you guys can save the world so much trauma by just not practicing your magic and—” Jensen caught sight of the expression on Jared’s face and his words dried up.

Jared’s eyes were tight and his lips were stretched thin. Jensen watched as the magus took a very obvious deep breath, and then Jared fixed him with a firm, steely-eyed expression.  “Okay, first? So long as what a magus does doesn’t impact another person in an unwanted way, then what right does any other person have to try to control the magus’s behavior?” Jensen opened his mouth to reply, but Jared cut him off with a gesture.  “No, listen,” he said. “I don’t especially like people playing Frisbee in the park, but so long as they don’t throw the damn thing at me, what right do I have to dictate what they can and can’t do? And don’t give me that ‘it’s unnatural’ bullshit. Cars and airplanes are unnatural, but I don’t see your stupid Church speaking out against Boeing or Chevrolet. Besides, it’s _not_ unnatural. For me, for any magi, _magic is natural_. Secondly; don’t kid yourself, Jensen. Prejudice against the magi is systemic and you’ve bought into that without question; you’re so busy congratulating yourself on you personally not being _overtly_ prejudiced—although frankly, even that’s questionable—that you can’t even see the oppressive framework around you. So next time you’re about to blurt out some bullshit about how the _magi_ are responsible for _other’s people’s shitty attitudes_ , stop; think; and maybe try shutting the hell up instead?”

Jensen nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Sorry. But you have to admit that the, uh, magi have the potential to be dangerous.”

Jared sighed. “That’s cuz they’re human, Jensen. Humans can be dangerous, whether the weapon at their disposal is a gun, a knife, a knowledge of martial arts, a bomb or magic; it’s the being human part that makes them dangerous. Guns kill a lot more people every year than magic does and your Church is a staunch supporter of the right to bear arms.”

It all sounded so clear and simple when Jared said it, but Jensen knew that his mom would’ve had an answer for all his arguments. Jensen frowned and wondered why he was even trying to defend the attitudes of the Church of the Holy Fire.

“They’re not my Church,” he told Jared. “Not any more.  I don’t really agree with them on, well, most things. But, uh… it’s hard to, you know, some of it is just so ingrained, it’s like an automatic response. I’m sorry. And I’m just gonna apologize in advance for anything offensive I might say. Feel free to call me on it.”

Jared stared at him and then nodded. “Oh, I will,” he said.

They continued down the corridor and Jensen tried not to think about the dull ache, deep in his bones. It had gone away completely when Jared had been touching him, which was only making him notice it all the more now.

“What is it?” Jared said.

Jensen side-eyed him with a frown. “Huh?”

“I can practically hear you thinking, man. What’s up?”

Jensen stopped walking again. “You can hear… You can read my mind?”

Jared chuckled darkly. “Wow. They really did a number on you, didn’t they? That whole thing about the magi being mind-readers was pretty thoroughly debunked decades ago.”

Jensen knew that. He also knew that his old Church maintained that the magi involved in the experiments had bewitched the researchers, so no-one should believe a word the researchers said. Jensen knew how paranoid that sounded, though. It was one of the many things the Church said that Jensen didn’t believe. And now he just felt stupid all over again for even bringing it up.

“It’s okay,” Jared said as they started walking again. “It was a pretty entrenched myth. You don’t need to feel stupid.”

Jensen gaped at him. “See that? Not helping me believe you can’t read my mind! How did you know I was feeling stupid?”

Jared laughed again, this time sounding much lighter. “Well who wouldn’t be feeling stupid after accusing me of mind reading?” he nudged Jensen’s shoulder with his own. “But, there’s a grain of truth in all myths and this one’s no different. The magi are super sensitive to emotions. We can’t tell what you’re thinking, but we can tell what you’re _feeling_. And sometimes that’s enough to make an educated guess as to what you’re thinking.”

Jensen side-eyed his companion again. “You can tell what I’m feeling?”

Jared nodded. “Unless I deliberately take a closer look, which I would never do without permission, I can only sense the really strong emotions that are sort of,” he waved his hands effusively, “sort of _leaking_ out.”

“Right,” Jensen said faintly. “So am I, uh, leaking emotions right now?”

Jared looked right at him for a moment and then shrugged. “I’m picking up fear, embarrassment and curiosity,” he inclined his head to one side. “Curiosity seems to be a pretty strong trait in you. You’re a questioner. I bet that didn’t go down well in a devout Holy Fire household.”

“Yeah, well. I learnt to keep my questions to myself,” Jensen said. “It’s easier to stop people from trying to control what you think if they don’t know what you think. Hey listen, this is gonna sound weird, but, uh, do you think we could hold hands? It’s just that it hurts less when we’re actually touching.”

Jared reached out immediately and took his hand and it was as if a calming balm had soothed his soul.

“I thought it only hurt if you couldn’t see me?” Jared said, his tone colored with worry.

Jensen shook his head. “It’s only agony when I can’t see you. It sort of aches all the time, unless you’re actually touching me. The further away you get, the more it hurts.”

“Shit,” Jared said, and increased the pace of his strides, practically dragging Jensen along the corridor behind him, until he got to an office with Prof. J.D. Morgan, ThD inscribed on the door.

Jared knocked on it and then pushed it open, calling out, “Professor Morgan, Sir? I’ve got a magical emergency.”

Jensen wasn’t sure quite what he was expecting—perhaps a grey-bearded old man in brightly colored robes and a pointed hat—but he certainly wasn’t expecting the man who pushed back from his desk and stood to greet them.

Professor Morgan—or Jeff as he introduced himself when he shook Jensen’s hand—couldn’t have been much more than a decade older than Jensen himself. He was ruggedly handsome with messy dark hair, not quite enough facial hair to be a beard, and dark bedroom eyes. In short, he was Jensen’s type and Jensen was a little surprised that while he could appreciate the aesthetics, he didn’t feel any kind of attraction toward the man.

“So what’s the…” Jeff caught sight of the colored skin twisting around Jensen’s neck and his eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he said. “ _Gen_!”

Before Jensen could wonder why Jeff had just shouted a shortened version of his name, a young, dark-haired woman appeared from behind Professor Morgan’s desk, where she’d apparently been hiding.

Jared gasped, the girl raised her chin defiantly and Professor Morgan smiled sheepishly at Jensen and shrugged. “My TA, Genevieve,” he explained, before turning to the girl. “Come and look at this, Gen. I think it’s the mark of _nasc anam_.”

“Looks like it,” Gen said. “We’ve got a book on it out back. I’ll go and get it.”

“Thank you,” Professor Morgan said to her retreating back. He turned back to Jared and Jensen with a bright smile. “I’ve never seen the mark in the flesh before. It’s incredibly rare,” he turned back to Jensen. “So is Jared the lucky magus?”

Jensen blinked, then frowned and glanced at Jared.

“Hey, whoa,” Jared said. “Back up a little. What the heck is a _nasc anam_? What’s going on?”

Professor Morgan decided that they needed to be sitting down for the rest of the conversation and there was a pause while they pulled out and arranged chairs. When they were seated in a semi-circle, Jeff cleared his throat and steepled his hands underneath his chin. “Okay, in short, the _nasc anam_ is a soul to soul connection between a magus and a mundane,” he looked across at Jensen. “A mundane is what we magi call you folk who don’t have any magic in ‘em.  Now, I’m sure you’re all familiar with those conspiracy theories that the magi can bewitch someone into falling in love with them?” he moved his hands to his lap and looked expectantly at Jensen, so he nodded. “Well those can be traced back to the very real occurrence of the _nasc anam_. Essentially, what happens is that a magus’s soul reacts so strongly to the soul of a mundane that his or her magic reaches out and connects to that soul, creating a powerful link between them.”

“Oh Goddess,” Jared said. “Jensen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I—”

“Well of course you didn’t,” Jeff interrupted sharply. “It’s completely beyond anyone’s control.  Your magic recognized your soulmate and the connection was forged, without you consciously knowing a thing about it.”

Jensen’s blood ran cold. Soulmate? He couldn’t… Jared was hot and he seemed like a really nice person, but Jensen hardly knew him. And besides his mama would have an absolute fit if he started dating a magus. There had to be some mistake.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jensen held a hand up. “Soulmate? You don’t mean… as in… _soulmate_?”

Professor Morgan met Jensen’s eyes. “Yes. Soulmate. As in 100% compatible, destined to be together forever. Soulmate.”

Jensen shook his head. “Yeah, no. See, I can’t date Jared,” he turned to Jared. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you; you seem pretty awesome, it’s just… my family.”

Jared started to say that he understood, no hard feelings, but Professor Morgan interrupted to tell Jensen that he didn’t actually have a choice.

Jensen pushed up from his seat, a fine tremor running through his body. “Of course I have a choice!” he said, his tone a little more shrill than he would’ve liked. “You can’t make me date somebody; Jared can’t force me to be his boyfriend.”

“What he said,” Jared was on his feet beside Jensen and Jensen suddenly felt so much better about everything. “There is no way,” Jared said, “that I would ever use my magic to coerce somebody into something they didn’t want!”

“It’s not like that, doofus,” said Gen, returning from out the back with a huge, old, leather-bound book in her hands. She gave the book to Professor Morgan, bookmarked open at a page on which there was a drawing that exactly matched the mark on Jensen’s neck. 

“Gen’s right,” Professor Morgan said absently, eyes skimming over the text beside the picture. “Jensen, you’ve probably been feeling some discomfort whenever you’re too far away from Jared?” he glanced across at Jensen, who nodded. “That’s known as the _ag fulaingt_ and it will continue,” Professor Morgan said, “until the connection is either fully established or until it is severed.”

Jensen didn’t quite see what the problem was. “Okay,” he said, “so let’s sever it.”

Professor Morgan grimaced. “The only way to sever the _nasc anam_ is for one of you to die.”

“Awesome,” Jared said darkly. “Your family’s gonna want me burnt at the stake.”

Professor Morgan frowned and Jared inclined his head toward Jensen and said, “Church of the Holy Fire.”

“Douchebags,” Gen spat.

“I’m not a part of that anymore,” Jensen said. “But my family…”

He reached out and took hold of Jared’s hand, reveling in the instant soothing calmness that cocooned him. “You’re right. My family could use this to cause problems.”

Professor Morgan cleared his throat. “The _nasc anam_ was one of the major factors behind The Burning Times,” he said. “When the global population was smaller, magi finding their soulmates was a lot more common. In England, in 1441, the Duchess of Gloucester developed the mark of _nasc anam_ after meeting a street magician. Her husband, the Duke wasn’t too pleased by this and he had the magus accused of bewitching his wife, so that he could have him executed and break the bond.”

Jensen couldn’t help shuddering at how cold and heartless that sounded and he said as much to Professor Morgan.

Morgan nodded. “It happened more than once, sometimes to protect an existing marriage, sometimes to stop a soul bond from getting in the way of a potential, more politically advantageous marriage. Of course, in the court cases a lot of fuss was made about poor innocent people being bewitched into lewd acts by witchcraft and the accusers more mercenary motives for wanting the magus dead weren’t ever mentioned.”

Jensen pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Obviously we don’t have to worry about Jared getting executed in this day and age, but, uh, I guess my parents could still try to make trouble.”

“How about you don’t tell them about all this?” Gen suggested with a roll of her eyes.

And that wasn’t actually a bad idea, although his mama was going to notice pretty quickly if he couldn’t stray more than a few steps away from his boyfriend without doubling up in pain. Not to mention the big colorful mark he now sported around his neck.

“You mentioned that the connection needs to become fully established,” Jared said, almost as if he’d just picked up on Jensen’s thoughts. “What does that involve?”

Professor Morgan’s eyes lit up. “Ah,” he said. “Well, uh, it’s a, uh,”

“You fuck,” Gen said bluntly.

Morgan frowned at her. “They make love,” he corrected. Gen shrugged. “And once you’ve solidified the bond then you’ll be fine to spend long periods of time apart, although you will still need to, uh, come together periodically to, uh, refresh the bond.”

Jensen snuck a quick sideways look at Jared. He could live with that. He could take Jared back to his apartment, fuck him, and then they could go their separate ways for a few months or however long it was until the bond needed to be satiated again. This was workable.  

“Okay,” he turned to Jared with a shrug. “Sure. Why not.”

Jared gaped at him. “You want a relationship?”

Jensen frowned. “A relationship? He didn’t say we had to have a relationship; just that we had to fuck.”

Jared folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah. See, that doesn’t work for me. I’m not a casual sex kind of guy.”

Easy for Jared to say, Jensen scowled at the floor. He wasn’t the one who ended up in agony if his _soulmate_ walked around a corner.

“Okay,” he said, striving for polite and falling short by quite a few yards. “Well what do you suggest then, _magus_? Because we’ve both got exams in a week and I don’t know about you, but I could really do without having to explain to the dean why I have to do them with you holding my hand!”

They glared at each other for a moment and then Jared deflated and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what we should do.”

Gen sighed noisily. “Lord and Lady save me from stupid, stupid boys,” she said.

“You have an idea?” Jared said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Gen nodded. “Spend the week together. Get to know each other. You’re meant to be soulmates, right? Chances are you’re gonna be perfect for each other.”

Jared looked Jensen up and down carefully. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “That, I can do.”


	2. “Remedies for those who are Obsessed owing to some Spell”

The walk to Jared’s dorm room was awkwardly silent. Jared hoped that his roommate Chad would be out so that he wouldn’t have to explain what was going on, but no such luck.

“Dude!” Chad called out, as soon as Jared opened the dorm room door. “Do you wanna…” he trailed off when he spotted Jensen and gave the older man a very Chad-esque, unsubtle once over.

“Nice tat,” he said finally, putting down his x-box controller and climbing to his feet. He inclined his head questioningly at Jensen and waggled his eyebrows at Jared.

“This is Jensen,” Jared said.

“Uh huh,” Chad stared at Jared, clearly anticipating more of an explanation.

Jared opened his cupboard and got out his bright green hard shell suitcase. He hefted it up onto his bed and started to pull clothes out of drawers and off of hangers and put them in the suitcase.

Chad watched him in silence for a moment and then looked from Jared to Jensen and then back to Jared again. “Dude,” he said, “what the actual fuck?”

“I’m moving in with him for a while,” Jared didn’t make eye contact, just kept shoving stuff in his suitcase. “It’s a… thing.”

“A thing,” Chad said flatly, narrowing his eyes and squinting irritably at both Jared and Jensen in turn. “Is it a magi thing?” he asked finally, tone a little hesitant.

Jared shrugged and snapped his suitcase shut.

Chad turned to Jensen, hands on hips and mouth pursed prissily. “Did you put a spell on him?” he demanded.

“Me?” Jensen’s tone was incredulous. “ _I’m_ not a magus.”

Chad turned to face Jared who was standing awkwardly by his bed, holding his suitcase by the pullout handle, wheels on the ground, with a backpack bulging with school books slung over one shoulder.

“Did _you_ put a spell on _him_?” Chad asked.

Jared shook his head. Chad raised a skeptical eyebrow when no further explanation was forthcoming.

“We, uh, knew each other back in Texas,” Jared said finally. “And, uh, we haven’t seen each other since we were kids, but we met tonight in the library and…hit it off and… I’ve been studying too hard lately, so…”

Chad’s incredulous expression slowly morphed into one of pride. “Attaboy, Jay!” he said. “I knew there was a real flesh and blood boy buried under that robotic, all-work-and-no-play exterior!” He slapped Jared on the shoulder that wasn’t encumbered by a back pack. “I’m into pussy myself, but even I’d consider hitting that,” he nodded at Jensen, who looked hugely affronted.

“Bye Chad,” Jared said and hurried to the door.

“Have fun, boys,” Chad leered, before winking obnoxiously.

“Sorry about that,” Jared said as they headed for the student car park. “Chad is… Chad is Chad.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Jensen said. “There’s one in every group of friends. We’ve got Rosie. Michael Rosenbaum. Loyal, but no filter. And possibly slightly nuts.”

“Sounds like Chad,” Jared muttered.

They lapsed into silence again, but it didn’t feel quite as awkward this time.    

 

 

Jensen lived in a white-rendered apartment complex, which was only two floors high, but made up for lack of height by sprawling through sizeable gardens filled with colorful flowerbeds and a lot of trees; conifers, gum trees and a big weeping willow. There was a big swimming pool too. Jared couldn’t help his low impressed whistle.

“How much does this cost?” he asked.

“$400.00 a month when it’s split between three people. I’m in one bedroom and my buddy Chris and his girlfriend Charisma are in the second bedroom.”

Jared frowned. There was a Charisma in the Magus Pride Club. It wasn’t exactly a common name, but surely, if Jensen had been living with a magus, he would’ve mentioned it? Maybe it was a different Charisma. Or maybe she simply wasn’t widely Out. 

Jensen’s apartment was on the ground floor, not far from the swimming pool. The front door opened onto a small living room which contained a battered olive green three-seater sofa, a matching arm chair and a wooden rocking chair. A man with long blondish hair was sitting on the rocking chair strumming a guitar and a short man with floppy brown hair and big blue eyes was curled up on the sofa with Charisma from the Magus Pride Club.

“Jared!” she said, her eyes widening as she untangled herself from the man who Jared assumed was Chris.

Jensen frowned. “You two know each other?”

Charisma sent waves of emotion at Jared; her feelings of calmness and open contentedness toward her boyfriend and an edge of concern that she felt toward Jensen. It wasn’t quite telepathy, but most adult magi were adept at inferring what was implied and Jared gathered that Charisma’s boyfriend was fully aware that she was a magus and was cool with it, but that she hadn’t told Jensen because she hadn’t been certain how he would take it.

He nodded his understanding almost imperceptibly and then replied to Jensen. “We’ve met.”

Jensen’s frown deepened, but before he could ask any more questions, Chris stood up with a frown of his own.

“What’s with the tat? Shit, son. That should’ve taken a _lot_ of sessions. How…?” he turned to stare at Jared and then looked back at Jensen.

“What’s going on?” he said flatly. The blond man stopped playing his guitar.

Jensen took a deep breath. “Chris, Charisma, Steve. This is Jared. He’s gonna be staying with me for a while.”

“What’s with the tat?” Chris repeated, getting right up in Jensen’s face and running a finger across the colored swirls. “Is it a fake?”

Jensen swatted at him and tried to push him away, calling him an asshole.

Charisma, meanwhile, had gravitated to Jared’s side and pulled off his scarf. “You have a matching…tattoo,” she said.

“What?” Jensen spun to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jared shrugged. “I didn’t know.”

Jensen muttered something about people who wore stupid, foofy scarves in summer and Charisma raised troubled, big brown eyes to meet Jared’s. “Jared…is this…is this the mark of _nasc anam_?”

Jared’s eyes widened. “You’ve heard of it?”

Charisma nodded. “Fourth Year Thaumaturgy. We just learned about it this year. It’s very rare. And something the Society likes to keep fairly quiet about because it’s so widely misunderstood. Not to mention the fact that it’s caused so much persecution.”

“Wait a minute,” Jensen said. “You’re a w—” he caught sight of Chris’s darkening expression and stopped himself. “You’re a _magus_ and you didn’t tell me?”

“Gee,” Jared said, voice laced with sarcasm. “I wonder why.”

Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck and lowered his eyes. “Sorry,” he looked up at Charisma. “Old habits. Not an excuse, I know. Anyway…it’s not an issue for me. I’m not prejudiced; I’ve just got some unlearning to do.”

He nodded at Jared and then cleared his throat. “So apparently we’re soulmates. His magic connected with my soul and now we can’t be apart without it causing me pain.”

“Oh,” Chris sat down heavily on the sofa and looked up at Charisma with sad eyes. “So we’re not…?”

Charisma went and sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s really rare,” she said. “There’s almost no chance of me finding my actual soulmate.”

“But if you did,” Chris’s smile was pained, “you’d leave me for them.”

It wasn’t a question and Jared wasn’t surprised when Charisma nodded reluctantly. “But it’s not gonna happen,” she said. “I love you a lot, Chris. Just because my magic didn’t latch onto your soul, doesn’t mean we can’t be happy together.”

“Right,” Jensen said. “You have a relationship built on mutual interests, mutual values, knowing each other and working your way up to love. With us,” he waved a hand in between himself and Jared, “we don’t even know each other. People aren’t gonna trust it. There’ll be a lot of people who’ll say that he bewitched me, that I’m a victim here.”

Jared swallowed past the lump in his throat and wondered if Jensen felt like a victim.

“Jensen’s right,” he said quietly. “We didn’t get to decide anything. My magic took that choice away from us.”

“Bullshit,’ Steve said, suddenly and loudly. “All your magic did was tell the two of you that you’re perfect for each other. Now you date, get to know each other, just like any normal couple.”

Jensen scowled at him. “I can’t be in a different room to him without keeling over!” he spat. “He’s gonna have to come with me when I take a shit! How is that normal?”

“Only until the bond solidifies,” Charisma said soothingly.

Jensen made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, well. Who the Hell knows when that’s gonna be.  He doesn’t do casual sex.”

Chris frowned. “I think I’m missing something.”

Jared explained about the _nasc aman_ and how the bond was completed via an act of lovemaking.  

“Huh,” Chris regarded him thoughtfully. “So unless your magic sucks big time, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you find Jensen attractive?”

Jared nodded.

“Then it shouldn’t be a hardship to do what you gotta to complete the bond. Seems like you owe him that.”

Jared shook his head. “We barely know each other. I don’t want to just… That’s not… I’m not…”

Jensen slipped his hand in Jared’s. “And no-one expects you to,” he glared at Chris. “I can’t believe you, man. You really think I want to fuck someone who doesn’t really want it? What the Hell’s wrong with you?”

Chris’s smile was smug. “Seems like you two already like and respect each other, and share the same values. Steve’s right. You just gotta get to know each other a bit better and the rest’ll fall into place.”

 

 

The sofa wasn’t big enough for an adult male to stretch out on and besides, Jared couldn’t sleep in a different room to Jensen without causing him pain; something Jared had no wish to do.  Jensen’s bed was a queen, which was good, and it was covered with a royal and navy blue Mavericks’ quilt set, which was less good.

“Aw, man,” Jared said. “Mavs? Really?”

Jensen looked him up and down and then sighed. “No way. Please tell me you’re not a Spurs guy?”

“Born and raised,” Jared said.

Jensen turned away from Jared and started to take his clothes off. “Well that settles it,” he said as he pulled his tee-shirt off, revealing a broad, muscular back. “Your magic don’t know shit. No soulmate of mine could be a Spurs fan.”

Jared was a little caught up dealing with his suddenly dry mouth and the way his dick was starting to sit up and take notice. He swallowed and tried not to think about how much he really wanted to pepper that back with kisses and kitten licks; to trace his tongue around the smattering of freckles he could see stretched across Jensen’s shoulders like a constellation.  When he didn’t respond, Jensen looked over his shoulder at him, the playful smile fading from his face when he met Jared’s eyes.

“Uh, not for nothing, Jay,” he said, “but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.”

Jared blushed. “That’s not gonna happen,” he said. “Not tonight, anyway. But, well, my magic may not care that you have really bad taste in basketball teams, but it wouldn’t have bonded with you if we weren’t,” he shifted uncomfortably, “if we weren’t sexually compatible. So, yeah,” he shrugged and took off his over-shirt. “I think you’re hot. But, uh…” he blushed and trailed off uncertainly.

Jensen pulled off his jeans and socks and climbed into bed. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, before grinning and waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously. “And it’s clear to me now that your magic figured you needed someone to lead you away from the dark side,” his voice was lightly teasing, “and get you supporting the _right_ Texan team. It obviously has your best interests at heart.”

Jared appreciated the way Jensen was trying to make the moment less awkward and he would have been enjoying the banter, the way they were ragging on each other for their respective basketball teams, if he hadn’t been able to see the colorful mark of _nasc anam_ swirling around Jensen’s neck.  Jared had rules for himself about sex and dating, but the way Jensen was leaning back against the headboard, bare-chested and with one knee propped up underneath the quilt, wasn’t helping Jared’s libido any. Jared wanted him; wanted to feel those soft, full lips against his own, wanted to feel the weight of Jensen’s cock in his hand, wanted to taste him. But not only was there Jared’s personal rule about not putting out until at least the third date, there was also a bigger issue at play here. The last thing he wanted was for Jensen (or Jensen’s family) to accuse him of rape, arguing that Jensen’s consent wasn’t real, just a result of witchcraft.  It was important that they take things slowly.      

“Jared?”

Jared blinked. He was standing stock still with his fingers entwined in the hem of his tee-shirt. He shook himself and focused on Jensen.

“It’s okay,” Jensen said, tone earnest and eyes imploring. “I swear that I won’t try anything. I’ll stay right on the edge of the bed, on my side, and I won’t try to touch you or anything. I would never try to force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to.”

“See, I know that,” Jared said, rapidly taking off the rest of his clothes and climbing into bed beside Jensen. “I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything.”

“You’re telling me,” Jensen muttered. “Well. Good night,” he reached over and switched off the bedside lamp.

In the sudden darkness, the mattress moved and squeaked and the quilt jerked as Jensen lay down on the far side of the bed. Jared did likewise and whispered his own good night. He closed his eyes, back turned to Jensen, certain that he would never fall asleep. The next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming through the cracks in Jensen’s Venetian blinds and he and Jensen were face to face in the very center of the bed, arms and legs completely entangled. Jared opened his eyes to find a pair of green eyes staring straight at him.

“Freckles,” Jared murmured. And then, because his brain hadn’t quite come on line properly yet, “they’re adorable.”

Fortunately, Jensen’s only reaction was to flush a little, lowering his eyelashes like a shy southern belle. His plump, pink lips were only inches away from Jared’s and Jared really wanted to lean forward and kiss him. They both probably had some serious morning breath though, and besides, he didn’t want to send out any mixed messages.

Jensen cleared his throat. “I, uh, gotta answer a call of nature,” he said. “Didn’t wanna risk waking you up by trying to move.”

“Oh. Right.” They pulled apart and Jensen got up and padded out of the room.

Jared lay contentedly in bed for another couple of minutes before the memory of Jensen curled up in agony on the floor of the corridor at school hit him, and then he was scrambling out of bed and bolting to the bathroom, before he’d had a chance to fully process that he wasn’t picking up any distress from his soulmate.

“Jensen?”

“Peeing, man, I don’t need an—” Jensen shut up abruptly and glanced at Jared over his shoulder. “Oh shit. I didn’t even think,” he frowned. “I’ve still got a vague dull ache, but how come I’m not on the floor this time?”

Jared theorized that maybe Jensen had stored up enough ‘soulmate contact’ during the night they’d spent curled around each other to withstand some small separations, and Jensen seemed to accept that.

Jared went back to bed and Jensen headed into the kitchen to make coffee. When he came back he was carrying two mugs of freshly brewed coffee. “You still feeling okay?” Jared asked.

Jensen nodded. “The ache’s a lot worse now, but nothing like it was when I practically passed out yesterday.”

Jared’s heart clenched. Why did his magic have to cause his soulmate so much pain?

“Anyway, I put one sugar and cream in your coffee,” Jensen said as he handed Jared his cup. “I hope that’s okay?”

Jared took a sip. “Perfect!”

Jensen scratched at his head, his nose scrunched up. “It was weird,” he said. “It just…seemed like the right way to do it.”

Jared shrugged. “Gotta be something to do with this whole _nasc aman_ thing, right? I’ll have to read up on it,” he frowned. “You know, between all the year-end assignments and exam study,” he sighed. “Fuck my life.”

Jensen—who was now back in bed, beside him—reached out and laid a hand on the back of his neck, before withdrawing it with a quick apology.

“It’s okay,” Jared hurried to reassure him. “You can touch me. I know it helps with the discomfort.”

Jensen flashed him a smile and sipped at his coffee. “You know,” he said. “I glad you’ve got a mark too. I was actually a little pissed when I thought that your magic had marked me up as belonging to you, but you weren’t marked as belonging to me.”

Jared’s heart did a little flip flop at the thought of Jensen _belonging_ to him.  Of him _belonging_ to Jensen.  It sent his blood racing and he had to grip his magic hard to stop it from sending excited sparks to swirl possessively around his soulmate.

“So,” Jensen said, completely oblivious to Jared’s inner-battle, “what’s on your agenda for the day?”

Jared pulled a face. “Studying and assignments. Saturday I’ve got a lunchtime shift down at Abracadabra Café, but until then, just studying and assignments.”

Jensen too, was cramming in all the last minute studying he could, so they agreed to spend the day at the library together. Jared really hoped he’d be able to keep his magic together this time.

 

 

 

Truthfully, Jensen was a little freaked.  The way he’d just known how Jared took his coffee, the way he’d been half way to making it before it had even occurred to him that maybe he should ask the magus how he took it and the way his brain had adamantly insisted that he was doing it right, had left him feeling unsettled. It was like his brain; his soul was no longer just his and the thought was unnerving.

Still, the study session had gone well. Jared hadn’t let any magic sparks loose to come and dance around his head and Jensen’s studying had been surprisingly focused and productive. When they stopped for lunch, Jared mentioned that he was pleased with the amount of work he’d gotten through too. Maybe it was something to do with the bond. Or maybe they just worked well together. Lunch had been…enjoyable. Jared barely stopped talking and he seemed to know every third person who passed their table, but he was interesting and entertaining and Jensen enjoyed his company. He tried to keep in mind the point that both Steve and Chris had made, that all Jared’s magic did was let them know that they were perfect for each other, but it was hard when he could hear his mom’s voice in his head, hissing that magic wasn’t to be trusted, that _witches_ weren’t to be trusted, that he’d been bewitched.

Still, with Jared sitting opposite him, stuffing his face with chicken tortilla and telling him earnestly between bites that even though he loved Mexican food, he always avoided refried beans because they made him gassy, well, Jensen couldn’t really picture him as a disciple of the devil.  Especially not when he had lettuce caught between his front teeth.

“Jared? You’ve got a little something caught,” Jensen tapped at his own front teeth and then watched as Jared’s tongue darted out and licked at his lips before poking at his teeth. He adjusted himself surreptitiously and cleared his throat.

“Chris and Steve are playing at Cowboy Country tonight,” he said. “I was planning on going to watch them with Charisma and a couple other people. You interested?”

He said it nonchalantly, like he wasn’t intensely aware that if Jared refused to go, he couldn’t go either, but Jared’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Sounds awesome!” he said.

 

 

Cowboy Country was the most popular live country music bar in the area and on a Thursday night, it was always packed. Which gave Jensen a good excuse to entwine his fingers with Jared’s as they wove their way through the dense crowd of people toward the table near the stage that his group of friends always reserved whenever Chris and Steve were playing.

Charisma was there already, with her long-time friend James, and Tom was there with his boyfriend Michael, who had a possessive hand on Tom’s knee. In Jensen’s view, Tom was dating the wrong Michael.  Michael Weatherly was, in Jensen’s humble (and so far unstated) opinion, a complete douchebag.  For some obscure reason known best to himself, Michael seemed to have felt threatened by Jensen from the get-go, sure that Jensen was looking to poach his man. If Michael had actually had eyes in his head, he would’ve seen that he had more to fear from the _other_ Michael; Rosie, whose unrequited love for their tall, blue-eyed friend was practically the stuff of legends.

It was James who noticed them first, his eyes widening and then narrowing as he watched them approach. Jensen felt Jared stiffen, almost imperceptibly, and then relax and he realized abruptly that James was probably a magus. Jensen’s mouth tightened. For someone who’d been certain he didn’t know any magi, he sure seemed to know a few magi.

Jensen greeted the gang and introduced Jared, guiding him down into a seat beside Charisma.

“Nice tats,” Michael said, the sneer obvious in his tone.

Jensen inclined his head briefly and turned to Tom. “Rosie not here tonight?”

“He’s buying a round,” Tom said.

Rosie appeared just as Tom spoke. He was carrying a tray with a pitcher of whatever beer was cheapest on tap tonight and ten glasses.

“So are you two together?” Rosie asked, when everyone was set with a drink and Jensen had introduced him to Jared.

“It’s…complicated,” Jared said.

Rosie frowned. “Really? Matching tattoos seems like a pretty big step for ‘it’s complicated’.”

Jared looked to Charisma and James, clearly wanting advice on how best to handle the question with this particularly group of people, but before he could respond, Weatherly said, “Always knew you liked ‘em really tall, Jen, the way you were always jealous of me and Tom.”

Jensen almost choked on his beer and he really appreciated the soothing hand that Jared ran up and down his back.

“Jensen and I are just friends,” Tom said.

“Does he know that?” Michael said petulantly.

“I’m not interested in Tom,” Jensen said flatly, as soon as his coughing fit subsided. For a start, they’d met at a Church mixer in their first year and the only reason Jensen had gone was because his mom had badgered him into it. Tom still went to Church, if not every Saturday, then often enough to indicate that he was still a True Believer, and Jensen could never date someone like that, despite how happy it would make his family.

Chris and Steve came on stage then and Jensen was saved from further conversation.  Beside him, Jared tapped his feet to the beat and out on the dance floor, people started boot scootin’.  Charisma whooped and dragged James out onto the floor and Jared fidgeted and side-eyed Jensen and finally asked him if he wanted to dance.

Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh. I don’t really dance.”

“Line dancing’s not that hard,” Jared stood up and tried to drag Jensen to his feet. “I can teach you.”

“Oh, I _can_ line dance,” Jensen said. “I’m from Texas. I just…don’t.”

Jared unleashed his puppy dog eyes and somehow or other Jensen found himself out on the dance floor, shuffling from side to side, swinging his hips and tapping his feet, his fingers tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. Jared, in contrast, was waving his arms around like a pirouetting ballerina and wiggling his ass in a way that really wasn’t sexy, but managed to turn Jensen on anyway.  When they finally made their way back to the table, several sets later, they were both pink-cheeked and sweaty and Jensen’s face was aching from all the grinning he’d been doing.  Not even Michael’s sour face, Rosie’s pining or James’s penetrating stare could intrude on his good mood.

Later that night when they climbed into bed, Jensen reflected that he hadn’t been this happy for a long time.

“Hey, Jared?” he said.

Jared turned to face him, his expression expectant.

“Tonight was fun. Thank you.”

Jared grinned and told him that he was welcome and Jensen decided that even if he was bewitched, it was worth it.

 

 

While Jensen was making coffee on Friday morning, he got a sudden yearning for blueberry pancakes. Leaving the coffee to brew, he dug around in the pantry until he found an almost expired packet of Aunt Jemima’s blueberry pancake mix, right up the back, behind an ancient box of muesli from when Chris had been on that health kick. He snatched the pancake mixture out of the cupboard with a rebel yell of triumph and carried it over to the bench.

Jared shuffled into the kitchen just as Jensen was flipping the last pancake out onto a plate.

“Dude!” he said. “How did you know I was craving blueberry pancakes?”

Jensen shrugged and put the plate on the kitchen table, along with a tub of butter and a bottle of maple syrup.  “Library again today?” he asked.

Jared’s mouth twisted a little. “Uh, probably best if…” he cleared his throat. “Gotta study for my Thaumaturgy exam and,” he hesitated again and then said, “part of the exam’s theory and part’s practical.”

Jensen paused, forkful of pancake midway to his mouth. “You’re gonna be practicing magic?”

Jared nodded. “Nothing dangerous. Just, uh, some basic transfiguration and locomotion spells.”

Jensen put his fork down and swallowed hard. “The other day you said you couldn’t transform things into other things.”

“No,” Jared said slowly, “I said you couldn’t transform a living thing into a different kind of living thing without maiming or killing it in the process. The transfiguration of live creatures is illegal for good reason. And obviously there are some scientific laws governing transfiguration as well. For example, I could turn a pen into a spoon, but I couldn’t turn it into a jumbo jet, because there wouldn’t be enough material in a pen to make a jumbo jet.”

“Oh. Makes sense, I guess,” Jensen resumed eating his pancakes. “And locomotion is just moving things, right?”

Jared agreed that it was.

As Jensen swiped a forkful of pancake through the maple syrup pooled on his plate, he wondered out loud why the Church of the Holy Fire felt so threatened by the magi, when none of the things that Jared was talking about being able to do sounded either scary or dangerous. Jared explained to him that done right, transfiguration and locomotion could be combined to make things explode or catch fire. And he reminded him that if a magus tried to transfigure a person into something else, it could kill that person.

“Still,” Jensen shrugged. “Like you said the other day, it ain’t like a guy with a gun or some explosives can’t do as much damage. And all we gotta do is slap some iron manacles on any magus who’s trying to do some damage and the threat’s gone.”

For some reason, putting a magus in handcuffs and legcuffs made of iron, with a chain running between the two, appeared to interfere with the magus’s ability to perform magic. Jensen assumed that there were people who understood the science behind why that was, but he didn’t have a clue.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Jen,” Jared said. “It’s not really logical, the way your Church hates us. They just got themselves convinced that God doesn’t approve of us, that we’re in league with the Devil and that’s that as far as they’re concerned. We’re evil sinners who don’t deserve to live.”

“Not my Church,” Jensen muttered.

“You don’t go any more?” Jared asked.

Jensen shook his head. “I went for a while when I first got here, just to keep my mama happy, really. But now,” he shrugged. “I went a couple times to that Church of Christ, with my friend Danneel. They’re pretty small. Have you heard of them?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, they sprung out of the Jewish religion a few thousand years ago, said that some magus who got crucified for witchcraft; turning water into wine, multiplying five loafs of bread into enough to feed thousands, things like that; was actually the son of God, and that he got resurrected after his death.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. “I don’t really buy it, but they seem like an okay bunch. They do a lot of charity work and they’re friendly and accepting of everybody, ordinary people and magi alike.” Jensen cleared the crockery into the dishwasher.  “What about you?” he asked Jared, even though he was actually dreading the answer. “Is your family religious?”

“We’re Wiccan,” Jared said cheerfully and Jensen nodded, because he’d been expecting as much.

The ancient religion of the magi had been all but destroyed following centuries of persecution and forced conversion to the Church of the Holy Fire, but in the sixties and seventies, as understanding grew that magical ability was simply an innate human variation, the result of genetics, not devilry, the magi began to piece together their lost cultural heritage. Wicca was based on the remnants of the Old Religion; on the scraps the magi were able to put together of a religion forced to go underground.  The Church of the Holy Fire disapproved of it wholeheartedly and condemned Wicca as evil devil worship in the strongest possible terms.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Jared said softly. “We don’t worship the devil. We don’t actually recognize the devil; he’s not part of our belief system.”

Jensen was getting sort of used to Jared picking up on his thoughts, so he wasn’t surprised by Jared’s response. Nor was he surprised when Jared laughed softly in the face of his rising panic.

“What have you heard?” Jared said, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t tell me; it’s the orgies of ritual sex that have got you worried, right?”

“Those are _real_?” Jensen’s voice squeaked embarrassingly.

Jared made a so/so gesture with his hand. “Yes, there is ritual sex. Yes, sometimes it’s public. No, you don’t have to participate in any way and no, you don’t have to watch.”

Jensen cleared his throat. “Good. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex as much as the next guy, but I’m kind of private about that sort of stuff.”

“Me too,” Jared said, his voice low and husky.

“Okay, good,” Jensen nodded vigorously. “That’s good. That’s…I’m glad we’re on the same page there. I’m gonna go,” he thumbed over his shoulder toward the bathroom and then managed to back into the table. “Ouch! Dammit!”

“You okay?” Jared was very obviously trying not to laugh.

“Yeah. I’ll… Back soon.” Jensen hurried to the bathroom, to the sound of Jared laughing.

 

 

Jared did his thaumaturgy theory study sitting at the kitchen table, with Jensen sitting beside him studying for his Human Functional Anatomy exam.  They quizzed each other until they both knew each other’s material backwards, and then they stopped for lunch.

After lunch, Jared turned all of Jensen’s tea spoons into shot glasses and a dinner plate into a small cushion, and he then floated all of them from one side of the room to the other. And then he made the table and all the chairs levitate. Jensen was impressed, despite himself. He could feel how tired all the magic left Jared, though; even a small act of magic seemed to require a large amount of energy. As a student of human physiology, Jensen was fascinated, and he wished he’d taken that unit on the Influence of Magic on Human Physiology.  He was also concerned by Jared’s exhaustion and felt a strong need to reach out to him.

As soon as Jensen put a hand on Jared’s shoulder, he could feel the magus’s energy levels start to build, drawing on Jensen’s reserves to replenish his own. Jared pulled away roughly and staggered to his feet, his startled eyes meeting Jensen’s.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know that would happen.”

“It’s okay,” Jensen reached out again and Jared flinched away.

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Really? You’re exhausted. I’m giving you some energy. Relax.”

Jared sat down cautiously and allowed Jensen to put an arm around his shoulders. “It feels good when I’m touching you,” Jensen said. “And I don’t mind helping you replenish your energy. Maybe that’s partly what non-magi soulmates are for?”

Jared sighed unhappily. “So far, the _nasc anam_ has hurt you and helped me. In the positives and negatives stakes, I seem to be coming out on top.”

Jensen smirked. “I’m more than happy for you to come out on top,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and licking his lips suggestively. “Especially if you’re proportional.”

Jared face-palmed, a little dramatically Jensen thought. “Dude! Really?” Jared shot him a sly sideways glance. “I kind of figured you’d want to top.”

Jensen shrugged. “I like getting fucked. But I’m happy to switch it up too.”

Jared rubbed a nervous hand over his mouth. “Okay. Well. Good to know. But just so you know, I don’t put out until at least the third date.”

“What about kissing?”

Jared chewed on his bottom lip and Jensen tracked the movement with big, black pupils.

“Kissing’s okay,” Jared said, peeking up at Jensen from underneath his bangs.

Jensen scooted his chair closer to Jared’s and then reached forward and took the magus’s face in his hands. The contact dulled his ever-present bone-deep ache, even as he could feel it sending his energy flowing into Jared. He leaned forward and touched his mouth to the younger man’s. Jared’s lips were soft and wet and he parted them with a groan, allowing Jensen’s tongue to sweep gently across his bottom lip, before dipping inside to tangle with his tongue. Jared gasped into Jensen’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed, as they pressed their lips together, sucking and licking and tonguing.  When they finally pulled apart, they were both flushed and Jensen was hard in his jeans. Jared looked dazed, but he no longer _felt_ to Jensen as if he was exhausted, and apparently Jensen had energy to spare, because he felt just fine. Better than fine, even.

Jensen cleared his throat and adjusted himself subtly.

“That was good,” he said.

Jared smiled; all dimples and goofy eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Jensen decided that they’d studied enough and challenged Jared to a game of FIFA. To his surprise, Jared kicked his ass, and Jensen learned that he’d played soccer in High School. He’d played baseball and lacrosse himself, and they ended up reminiscing about their childhoods. Chris and Charisma came home just as they were looking through the take out menus and when they were all settled with pizza and beer, Chris told a few tales about their first few years in college.

 “I’m tellin’ ya, man,” he said to Jared, “your boy here was so goddamn wet behind the ears when I met him. Couldn’t hold his liquor for shit; I had to sit his ass down and teach him about decent music; apparently his mama didn’t hold with ‘the devil’s music’,” Chris rolled his eyes and Jensen smiled sheepishly. “She worries, is all,” he said.

Chris stared hard at him for a moment and then said, “I love you like a brother, man. But your mama, she’s a bigot. What the hell are you gonna tell her about this?” he gestured between Jensen and Jared.

Jensen reached out and took hold of Jared’s hand. “I guess I’ll tell her the truth.”

Beside him, Jared sighed. “The truth is subjective,” he said. “Her truth is gonna be that I put a spell on you, forced you to be mine.”

Jensen tried to pretend that a feeling of warm contentedness didn’t spread through him when he heard Jared claim him as _mine_.

Jared was right, though. His mom and dad were never going to accept Jared as family, and there was every chance they may even try to stage an intervention; to drag Jensen home and lock him up; to have the Reverend try to pray away his bewitchment; to subject him to a barrage of intrusive holy rituals. He swallowed and moved a little closer to Jared.

“We’ll deal with it,” he said. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

Jensen couldn’t stop worrying though, and by the time they went to bed, his thoughts were a churning mess. Jared sighed and rolled over. “C’mere,” he said, lifting an arm.

Jensen hesitated for a moment and then scooted over and tucked himself under Jared’s arm. “We’re gonna wake up all tangled together any way,” Jared said. “May as well start out that way, especially if it’s gonna help you relax.”

Being free of the dull ache was always nice, and being wrapped in Jared’s giant arms was relaxing in some ways. It also turned him on and he wondered what would happened if he pushed his ass back against Jared’s groin.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jared said firmly. He leaned forward and kissed Jensen’s cheek. “Sleep,” he said, placing two fingers against Jensen’s forehead, and Jensen felt his mind shut down and drift off into slumber.


	3. “How the Process is to be Concluded…”

On Saturday morning, Jared woke up earlier than Jensen for the first time. He slipped out of bed and put the coffee on to brew and then allowed himself to panic a little about how Jensen was going to react to Jared having basically put him to sleep the previous night.  When the coffee finished percolating, he made two cups and took them back into the bedroom. Jensen was sitting up, propped against the headboard.

“Hey,” Jared said, handing Jensen a cup.

Jensen took a sip and nodded his thanks. “I feel fine,” he said. “And I’m not mad, so you can stop stressing.”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “You’re picking that up through the bond?”

Jensen nodded and told Jared that even though he wasn’t mad, he would like to understand how Jared had gotten him to fall asleep.

Jared put his coffee down on the side table and climbed into bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the sheets and facing Jensen.

“It’s really just an empathic suggestion,” he said. “And it’s really important that you understand that I can’t make you do something that you don’t actually want to do. People have tried to use bewitchment as an excuse for crimes in the past; some still try to sometimes, but the truth is no magus on the planet can make you murder someone if you don’t already want to do it.”

Jensen licked at his lips. “Okay,” he said, “but if you did hate someone enough to want to kill them, but would never act on the impulse, because you knew it was wrong, could a magus’s ‘suggestion’ be enough to make you do it?”

Jared shook his head. “We can’t override the morals and ethics of your mind. If your values wouldn’t allow you to actually kill somebody, no matter how much you hated them and wanted them dead, then we couldn’t make you,” he rubbed his hands over his face and then put them in between his legs, his expression earnest. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to sleep last night, not without permission. I’m really sorry. I just…I could feel how tired you were, and how wound up. I just…I just wanted to help.”

Jensen nodded. “It’s okay. I get that. And for the record, you have my permission to help me sleep.”

Jared hugged him impulsively and nearly made him spill his coffee.

 

 

Jared felt incredibly guilty. Not only was he causing Jensen constant low level pain, he was interfering with his studying. Jared had to work today and thanks to the _nasc anam_ , Jensen had no choice but to come with him.

“I’m sorry,” he started to say, for possibly the hundredth time, but Jensen cut him off.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Like I told you, I can study just as easily in the café as I can here or at the library,” he nudged Jared. “And if I’m lucky some cute barista might bring me free coffee.”

Abracadabra Café was always busy. It was magi owned and operated and popular with both the magi and the local student body.

Although he’d lived in Palo Alto for nearly four years and was something of a coffee connoisseur, Jensen said that he’d never been to the café before.

As Jared set him up at a small round table in the window, his soulmate joked that he’d been staying away from ‘wicked’ places like this to humor his mama, but he was already regretting that he hadn’t become an immediate regular at Abracadabra, because the place smelled amazing. Jared managed a smile. It wasn’t much of a one though, because he could feel his soulmate’s shame and genuine regret through their bond.

Jared tied on his apron and got busy making coffees and the occasional herbal tea. There wasn’t a lot of down time, but between orders, Jared watched Jensen spread his books across the table and begin to quiz himself with the flash cards he’d made up the day before.

Jared could feel him getting progressively more drained as he crammed as many facts into his head as he could, in preparation for his upcoming exams.

Jared made a Mocha latte for himself and then a long black, double shot for Jensen. He plated up a couple of chocolate chip cookies, each one as large as the plate it was served on.

“Felicia,” he said to the red-headed girl who took over the Gaggia whenever he went on his breaks. “Gonna take a break now.

 

 

Jensen looked up as Jared approached. “You’re a legend!” he said, making grabby hands for the coffee.

“Could feel you hitting the wall,” Jared murmured as he handed Jensen a white mug with a picture of a wand shooting rainbow coloured sparks on it.

Jensen took a sip and closed his eyes in bliss, before setting the cup down on the table and stretching his arms above his head in a way that showed a strip of skin, just above the waistband of his jeans. Jared absolutely did not salivate. “You know, this bond thing has its uses,” Jensen said.

Jared sat down next to him. “How’s the studying going?”

Jensen wrinkled his nose. “Can’t wait until exams are over.”

The bell above the door jangled, as it had so often during the course of the afternoon.  Jared felt the sudden tension in the air immediately and turned to see who had entered the café.

There was only a small group of them this time; Jared counted six, dressed conservatively and each carrying a placard with some kind of hateful slogan on it.

 _‘God hates Witches!’_ appeared three times. Another sign read ‘ _Repent and Pray!_ ’ Another said ‘ _America is doomed_!’ And a final sign read, ‘ _You’re going to Hell_!’ 

Shame and humiliation raced at Jared across his bond with Jensen and the magi looked across at his soulmate whose face was in his hands.

“Repent sinners!” a man dressed in a dark suit boomed loudly.

“Jensen?” Jared said quietly.

Jensen peered out at him from between his fingers. “Oh God,” he said, a whole bucket load of self-loathing evident in his tone. “I can’t believe this is… My family does stuff like this, Jared.”

Jared nodded. “We get picketed by these douchebags every couple months,” he said, glancing toward the Staff Only door as the café’s owner, Loretta Devine, bustled through it from where she’d been doing paperwork in the back office.

Jared and Jensen watched as she confronted the group, telling them she’d called the police and asking them to leave.

“Repent and be Saved!” the suit bellowed. “God hates Witches!”

Jensen made a small, disgusted noise and Jared could feel the humiliation bleeding off him.

“At least they haven’t got any kids with them,” Jensen said. “My parents used to drag me to things like this. Put a placard in my hands,” he shook his head. “I hated it. When I was really little, I didn’t understand what was going on, but I always felt like we were in the wrong.  When I got older,” he shook his head again. “It just never felt right. I never argued, never questioned them, but I always figured that if God didn’t want Witches,” Jensen shot an apologetic look at Jared, “then, if he really was all powerful, why did He create them? Of course, my parents had an answer for that. They said that God didn’t create the magi, the devil did. But isn’t God meant to be more powerful?” Jensen shrugged. “I dunno. The whole thing just never sat well with me. At least they stopped trying to force me to go picketing with them by the time I hit fourteen. I guess there’s nothing worse than having a sulky teen whose heart isn’t really in it at a picket.”

In a way, Jared could relate to what Jensen had been through. His parents were very active magi activists and he’d spent his childhood at protests, as well as places and events that got picketed by the Church of the Holy Fire. He’d never felt as if he was on the wrong side, as Jensen had, but he had sometimes wondered why it always had to be him and his family who stood up for the cause and put themselves in the firing line. As an adult, he was happy to do just that, but as a kid, sometimes, he could have done without the pressure.

“You’re going to burn in Hell!” the suit shouted at Loretta.

“I’m gonna,” Jared inclined his head toward the ugly scene and got to his feet. Jensen nodded and Jared could feel his soulmate’s eyes on him as he went and stood beside Loretta and drew himself up to his full height.

“Y’all need to leave,” he said.

The suit sneered at him. “God shalt not suffer a Witch to live!” he bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at Jared.

“Well, clearly he shall,” Jared spread his arms wide, “because here we all are.”

“Hey,” Jensen appeared at Jared’s elbow. He addressed himself to the suit. “Do you have children, sir?”

The suit stared at him. “Is that a threat? Are you threatening me, _Witch_?”

“I’m not a Witch,” Jensen said. “And no, I’m not threatening you. I was just wondering… If you do have children, do you ‘dashesh thy little ones against stones when they are disobedient’ like the Psalms tell you to?” 

The suit frowned. “That’s… that’s an obsolete translation. The Psalms don’t _really_ mean that we should kill our children if they’re naughty.”

Jensen nodded. “Some people think ‘Witch’ is an obsolete translation, that a more correct translation would be _poisoner_.”

Jared watched with pride as Jensen attempted to reason with the leader of the Holy Fire Picket. He also noticed that quite a number of the café’s customers had gravitated to stand in a semi-circle around the group, listening intently.

“No,” the suit shook his head. “It’s definitely Witch. Our scholars are certain on that point.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jensen rubbed a hand across his jaw. “By the way, I can’t help noticing that you’re wearing a cotton shirt with a polyester suit. That’s a real blend of fibers you’ve got going on there. According to the Book of Rules, you should be put to death for that.”

“That’s an obsolete Rule!” the suit said.

“Because the Patriarch said so? But isn’t he just a man?”

“He speaks for God!”

Jensen nodded. “But wasn’t that the problem you people had with Witches? That they claimed to speak directly to God? That they performed their own rituals; didn’t need a priesthood? Could perform miracles themselves with their own inherent, God-given powers?”

“They are not God-given! Witches are an abomination!”

“Yeah? Well so are you in that blend of fibers!”

The suit launched himself at Jensen, but luckily the police turned up just as he did and all of the picketers were quickly escorted outside. One of the police officers had a chat with Loretta about what had happened this time, and Jared took the opportunity to hurry Jensen back to their table.

“You were awesome,” he said, leaning across and linking hands with his soulmate.

Jensen flushed faintly pink. “Thanks. I just figured I’d try fighting fire with fire, so to speak; try to use their own scripture to explain how misguided they are.”

Loretta finished with the police and caught Jared’s eye with an expression that made him think that he was about to get a lecture. She made her way across to their table and sat down beside Jensen.

“Thank you for stepping in,” she said to him, holding out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Loretta and this is my café.”

Jensen took her hand and shook it. “Jensen,” he said.

Loretta nodded. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s the mark of _nasc aman_ that I can see on your neck. And as I can see its counterpart on Jared’s neck, I’m gonna take a guess that Jared is the lucky magus?”

Jensen blushed again. “Yeah. I guess.”

“We haven’t finalized the bond yet,” Jared said.

“Are you going to?” Loretta asked, her tone a little sharp.

Jared nodded. “We’re both willing. And I hate that it causes Jensen discomfort. We’re just…waiting until we know each other a little better.”

Loretta’s face softened. “Of course,” she clapped her hands briskly. “This is such good news. A magus finding his or her soulmate is incredibly rare,” she beamed. “Why don’t you bring Jensen to the public Full Moon Esbat tonight, Jared?  And then,” Loretta winked, “I believe there’s the usual Full Moon party down at Beachcombers. Those are always fun.”

“We’ll think about it,” Jared said. “It’s up to Jensen really.”

Loretta turned to Jensen and took his face in her hands.  “Only one way you know so much about Holy Fire scripture,” she said. “How is your family going to take this?”

Jensen swallowed visibly. “They’ll probably disown me,” he said, trying for light and missing by several yards.

“Oh baby,” Loretta said. “For what it’s worth, you’ll always have Jared and you’ll always have the magi community.”

Jensen nodded and attempted a smile and Jared vowed silently to be worthy of him.

 

 

“We don’t have to go,” Jared said, again. He was leaning against the frame of Jensen’s bedroom door, watching his soulmate consider and discard shirt after shirt after shirt.

Jensen frowned at the white button-down in his hand and turned to Jared. “I want to go. I’m just not sure what to wear.”

“Honestly?” Jared raked his eyes over Jensen’s naked torso and smiled wickedly, “you’d be fine to go just how you are.”

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up. “But I’m bare-chested!” His eyes widened. “Oh. Uh. There’s… there’s not gonna be _nudity_ at this thing is there?”

Jared rubbed at the back of his neck. “Maybe? Not total nudity, but there’s probably gonna be a lot of people going topless. Girls as well as guys.”

Jensen swallowed. “What are you gonna wear?”

Jared stepped away from the wall and spread his arms out wide. “I’m just going like this.”He was dressed in knee-length beige cargo shorts, a baggy v-neck black tee-shirt and tan leather flip flops. “The ceremony’s held down on the beach, so there’s no need to dress up.”

Jensen chewed at his bottom lip and then selected a khaki green v-neck tee-shirt to go with the blue jeans he was still wearing.

Jared watched him slip it over his head, a little sad to see his soulmate’s beautiful broad back vanish beneath the material.

“What?” Jensen said, glancing up and catching Jared’s wistful expression. “Is this okay?”

Jared nodded. “You look gorgeous,” he said.

Jensen smirked. “Good. Because I don’t do shorts, sweetheart.”

 

 

 

Jensen was half expecting the Wiccan ceremony to be picketed by the Church of the Holy Fire. But there were several hundred magi in attendance and the Church had stayed away; they always did tend to prefer easy targets.

During the short drive down to the beach, Jensen had been trying to figure out why it was so important to him to do attend this ceremony. Okay, sure, Jared was Wiccan and Jared was his soulmate. That was an explanation. But it wasn’t the full explanation.

Church had been a big part of Jensen’s life for a long time. And then the doubts had become too big to ignore and he’d pulled away slowly, until by the time he was half way through his first year at college he wasn’t going any more.  But there had been elements of going to Church that Jensen had enjoyed; things that he missed. The fellowship; the connection to God. He was pretty sure that the Church of the Holy Fire weren’t on the right path, he couldn’t honestly believe that a deity would be so concerned with hate; but maybe the Wiccans had something to offer. They were, after all, one of the biggest religious groups in America and not all Wiccans were magi, just as not all magi were Wiccans. Some magi were Jewish, some were part of the Church of Christ and some were atheists. Jensen wondered if there were any in the Church of the Holy Fire, too frightened to acknowledge what they really were.

Because this ceremony was public, it was being presided over by a High Priestess and a High Priest, but Jared had explained to him that all over the country, Wiccan families and solitary practitioners would be performing the same ceremony themselves.

The Ceremony was called Drawing Down the Moon and it was beautiful. First, the High Priestess consecrated a Circle and called the Quarters and then the High Priest helped her with the Ritual, while Jared stood with his arms around Jensen, whispering in his ear, explaining everything to Jensen as it happened. The High Priest used the ceremonial knife as a receptacle for the lunar energy, drawing it down into the Chalice, before asking everyone to join him in inviting the Goddess to use the energy to take possession of the Priestess.  Jensen could tell the exact moment that the spirit of the Goddess entered the Priestess; he could feel the shift in energies and everything about the woman changed. Even her voice was different.

When she called him and Jared by name to come to the edge of the Circle, Jensen wasn’t sure who was more surprised; him or Jared.  They made their way through the crowd hand-in-hand, until they stood before her and she smiled and reached out, placing one hand on his forehead and one on Jared’s.  She spoke briefly in a language that Jensen didn’t understand and then said, “Together, you are the way forward. The path to the light.”

The people who were standing close to the Circle noticed that they both bore the mark of _nasc anam_ and a general hubbub of excitement swept through the crowd.

The Priestess/Goddess gave messages to a few other people and blessings to all, but Jensen had pretty much stopped paying attention, too aware of the crowd’s attention.  He vaguely noticed the Goddess depart and he watched the Priestess and Priest conduct the Ceremony of Cakes and Ale, before banishing the Circle and Grounding the energy and inviting everyone to drink juice and eat cookies.

“This is not ale,” Jensen said around a mouthful of oatmeal cookie, raising his paper cup of apple juice and waving it at Jared.

Jared shrugged. “Traditionally it would be an alcoholic drink, but we try to be inclusive and some people don’t drink.”

Jensen nodded.  He tried to ignore the press of people, staring at them with wonder.

“The Church of Christ had a thing they did with wine and wafers,” Jensen said. “We… I mean my old Church… they didn’t have any ceremonies that involved eating or drinking. They do light a lot of candles though,” he frowned. “And burn stuff. There’s always a ceremonial fire burning at the altar and you can write down whatever unclean thoughts you’ve had or deeds you’ve done and then toss the paper into the fire to cleanse your soul. They burn a lot of books and newspapers and stuff too, anything flammable that represents something they don’t approve of.”

Jared was quiet for a moment and then he said, “You know that ceremonial fire? You know it’s based on the stake and pyre system they used to use to execute the magi?”

Jensen nodded. “Pretty gruesome, huh? Feasting together on cookies and juice is much more awesome than burning stuff.”

Jared grinned. “Sure is.”

“Jared?” Genevieve and Professor Morgan appeared from the crowd surrounding them. “Are you coming to Beachcombers?”

Jared made eye contact with Jensen. “Ready to party?” he asked, reaching a hand out to Jensen.

Jensen took his hand and beamed. “Can’t wait,” he said.

     

 

Jensen felt drunk. And not because he _was_ drunk, because he wasn’t. He hadn’t even had one alcoholic drink. He was just high on life; on the charge of magical energy in the air; on Jared. Jared, whose flip-flops were wedged in his back pocket as he pulled Jensen along behind him, weaving in a big spiral with hundreds of others, around the dance floor, around the tables and chairs, out onto the deck and then down onto the sand. Chris and Charisma, James, Genevieve and Jeff were somewhere in the circle of dancers too. Jensen didn’t know the girl who was holding his other hand, but she was only wearing a bikini and a grass skirt and she was whooping with delight. Jensen’s mom would probably have a heart attack if she could see him right now.

Jensen wasn’t entirely sure where his shoes were anymore. His jeans were rolled up to the knees, his tee-shirt was tucked into his back pocket and his bare feet were thumping against the earth as he danced, his toes scrunching into the sand. It felt fantastic. 

The girl beside him whooped again and shot a burst of magical sparks into the air, as if they were fireworks. Jensen laughed out loud. He was dancing, semi-naked, on a beach, under a full moon, with a bunch of witches, and it was fucking awesome.  Just for a moment, he imagined the pinched, pained expression on his mom’s face, her horror and disgust, and then he shrugged it off. They weren’t hurting anybody and Jensen had never felt more alive.

The dance broke up organically as people began to tire and Jared turned to Jensen with a huge, predatory smile on his face. He advanced on him fast and then picked him up by the waist, twirling him around and around in dizzying circles as Jensen gripped his shoulders and shouted at Jared to put him down. Jared ignored him and Jensen was forced to wrap his legs around Jared’s waist to stop himself from falling. He was trying to ignore how much it turned him on that Jared was strong enough to pick him up like this. Jared spun them away from Beachcombers and over to the dunes, before lowering Jensen to the sand and lying down on top of him, with Jensen’s legs still wrapped around his waist.

“You are so fucking hot,” Jared said, his breath warm on Jensen’s face.

“Right back at ya.” Jensen squirmed until their groins were lined up and Jared groaned and leaned down and kissed him, his lips pressing firmly and his tongue thrusting its way into Jensen’s willing, receptive mouth. At the same time he circled his hips and ground down against Jensen, who moaned and gasped against his lips, and tangled his fingers in Jared’s long hair.

Jared pulled away from the kiss and looked down at Jensen with lust-blown eyes.

“I want you so bad,” he said.

“But Jared,” Jensen rubbed up against his soulmate, eliciting another groan, “this is only our second date.”

“Is not!” Jared said with playful indignation. “We had lunch together the other day. And we played FIFA and had take-out last night. This is our _fourth_ date!” His expression became a lot more serious. “I’m ready, Jensen. If you still want to, I’m ready. I want this. I want _you_.”

Jensen didn’t have to be told twice.

Well, okay. Technically Jared _had_ told him twice.

“Let’s go,” he said.

 

 

Jared had one heck of a dirty mouth. Jensen already knew that the younger man talked a lot; he hadn’t known—how could he have known?—that Mr ‘I don’t put out until the third date’ was an absolute fiend once you finally managed to get him in the sack.

The manhandling had started again the very second the front door of Jensen’s apartment closed behind them. Jensen had found himself wrapped in giant arms, kissed to within an inch of his life and then half carried, half propelled into the bedroom.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Jared rambled, “love your eyes, love your freckles, so fucking cute,” he began to tear at Jensen’s pants. “Need to get these off, need you naked. Now.”

Jensen batted his hands away and stripped naked with ruthless efficiency. Jared kept trying to help, or maybe just to touch him, and it took the magus far too long to realize that his clothes needed to come off too, but eventually, they were both butt-naked and all the moisture in Jensen’s mouth dried up completely, because _Holy Fuck_. Jared looked like he’d been sculpted from marble. Jensen couldn’t wait until the magus finished growing into his body; he was still a little lanky, a little skinny, but he was going to be one heck of a sex God one day and Jared smirked, which led Jensen to think he may have said that last part out loud.

They wrestled each other down onto the bed, each of them fighting to pin the other one to the mattress. Jared kept cheating though; kept kissing him and stroking his cock; kept reaching around to rub at his hole and kept telling him, his voice thick with lust, that he couldn’t wait to stuff his fat cock in Jensen’s ass and pound his sweet spot until Jensen came, screaming Jared’s name. And how was that fair? How was he supposed to resist that? Jensen let his body go lax, spread his legs and let Jared pin him to the mattress. For just a moment, Jared seemed uncertain and then he lowered his head and kissed Jensen very thoroughly.  When they came up for air, Jensen may actually have whined just a little.

Jared was back to looking uncertain again. “We don’t have to do it this way,” he said. “You can top if you want to.”

“Don’t want to,” Jensen said.

“You know I’m not bewitching you, right? You know I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to?”

Jensen flung a hand out sideways. “Lube and condoms are in the top drawer.” It wasn’t quite a growl, but it came close.

Jared stared down at him for a moment and then sat up and retrieved the supplies.

“How do you wanna do this?” he asked.

Jensen took the Astroglide from Jared and squeezed some out onto his fingers. He planted his feet on the mattress, spread his legs wide and slowly inserted two slick fingers into his ass. Jared whimpered and when Jensen looked up at him his pupils were completely lust-blown. “Can I help?” the magus said, the words sounding like they’d been punched out of him.

When Jensen nodded, Jared squeezed some lube onto his fingers and slid one of them in beside Jensen’s.

Jensen gasped and his eyes snapped shut. Jared’s hands were huge and his fingers were long and the way he was pumping in and out of Jensen, loosening and relaxing the muscle, had Jensen’s dick hard enough to pound nails and weeping a steady stream of pre-come from the slit. Jensen pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the sheet.

“Enough,” he said. “Wanna ride you.”

He pushed at Jared and Jared followed his lead happily enough, withdrawing his finger, rolling over to lie on his back and tearing the condom packet open with his teeth.

Jensen straddled Jared’s thighs, biting his bottom lip as he watched Jared roll the condom on. Once he was sheathed, Jared held his cock firmly at the base and then he watched as Jensen positioned himself above him, before lowering himself onto Jared’s straining cock.  Jared was huge; definitely proportional; and just the stretch of the head pressing inside him had Jensen moaning wantonly as his hole yielded to Jared’s impressive girth. Jensen sank down slowly, giving himself time to adjust to the fat dick, taking it an inch at a time and watching Jared’s tortured expression, listening to his harsh breaths, punctuated by occasional curses and pleas. By the time Jensen was fully seated Jared was babbling, begging to be allowed to move, to fuck him.

“Give it to me, Jared,” Jensen said. “Make me take it.”

Jared’s hands were on Jensen’s hips immediately and he began to thrust up into his soulmate as if his life depended on it. All Jensen could do was hang on for the ride, and then Jared growled and flipped them so that Jensen was on his back with his knees pushed down to his shoulders and his feet pointing at the head board behind him.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Like that. Just like that,” Jared drove in deep and nailed his prostate and Jensen couldn’t help his long drawn out moan. “That’s it, Jay. Right there, right _there_.”

“Pushy bottom,” Jared gasped, as he continued to do his level best to fuck Jensen just exactly the way he wanted it.

Jensen would’ve smirked at him and made some smartass comment only he was too busy biting at his bottom lip and getting a hand to his swollen dick, stripping himself hard and fast and _fuck yeah_ coming all over his belly. Jared followed him over the edge almost immediately and the very moment he did, Jensen could feel Jared inside his head; could feel the way his dick was still twitching as he came down from his orgasm, could feel that Jared wanted him, liked him; _loved_ him. That he was hungry.

Jared laughed. “I’m almost always hungry.”

“Can you read my mind for real now?” Jensen said.

 _What do you think?_ The words just floated into Jensen’s mind.

_It’s the bond, right? It’s fully formed?_

Jared grinned. “This is awesome. We can read each other’s minds. We could cheat on our exams and no one would ever know! Not that we will,” he frowned. “We should probably not mention this particular ability to anyone.”

 _Our secret,_ Jensen agreed. _It’ll be great for fucking with people. And speaking of fucking…_

Jared pulled out and took care of the condom.  He even went into the bathroom by himself and their separation didn’t cause Jensen to feel so much as a slight twinge of discomfort.

“Man,” Jared said, walking back into the bedroom, proudly naked. “I can’t wait to have sex again with the bond fully operational. I’ll be able to feel what you feel as well as what I feel. It’s gonna be mind-blowing!”

“Speaking of blowing,” Jensen licked his lips and looked pointedly at Jared’s dick. “I can’t wait to suck you off.”

Jared’s spent dick tried valiantly to rise to the occasion.

“How about we get something to eat while we recover from Round One?” Jensen suggested.  “We’re gonna need all the nutrition we can get, cuz I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.”

 

 

 

When Jared awoke, he was tangled in a sweaty mess of limbs and his ass ached something fierce. Or possibly, Jensen’s ass ached something fierce; it was a little hard to tell whose feelings were who’s when they were so entwined.  Jared untangled himself from Jensen as gently as possible, smiling broadly when Jensen snuffled and frowned and then began to cuddle Jared’s vacated pillow, all without waking up.

He took a quick shower and ascertained that his own ass was only a little tender from the one time he’d bottomed, so most of the discomfort he was feeling was coming from Jensen. Jared made a mental note to learn to resist Jensen’s begging, because in the throes of passion, the man clearly didn’t know his own limits. Either that or he liked it rough enough to hurt, which Jared really didn’t.

Jared went to make coffee. There were no teaspoons and he swore softly as he remembered transfiguring them all into shot glasses.  He tracked down the shot glasses and turned a couple back into spoons.  When he returned to the bedroom, Jensen was sitting up, gingerly, his eyes still sleep-blurred and unfocused.

“Could feel you worrying,” he said.

Jared handed him his coffee. “How are you feeling?”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Like someone pounded my ass repeatedly with a baseball bat,” his cheeks and neck flushed slightly. “I may have gotten a little carried away last night.”

Jared nodded. “I can actually feel your discomfort through the bond,” he said and Jensen’s face got even redder. Jared went and got him some Advil, which Jensen accepted gratefully.

“So,” Jensen said after a while. “We can feel how each other is feeling, physically and emotionally, and we can read each other’s thoughts.”

Jared nodded.

“You think we could survive the other’s death?” Jensen asked.

Jared shrugged. “Not sure I’d want to, to be honest. It’d feel like having my soul torn in two. But we’ll have to investigate that. I know soulmates are rare, but there’s gotta be something in the literature about that.”

Jensen nodded and sipped at his coffee. “You don’t know where my shoes are, do you?”

Jared gaped at the non-sequitur. “No clue.”

“It’s just that I took them off last night and I don’t know where I put them. I can’t believe I drove home bare footed. And I really like those sneakers.”

Jared frowned. Something was bothering Jensen and it wasn’t really the shoes. He was picking up a lot of anger, shame and sorrow through the bond. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I can do a locator spell later if you want.”

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up. “You can do that?”

Jared nodded. “Sure. Or we could just go down to Beachcombers and look through lost property, because that’s probably where they are,” he hesitated a moment and then asked, “What are you really worrying about, Jensen?”

Jensen sighed.  “I just keep imagining someone from Church phoning my mama and telling her that I was seen last night dancing semi-naked on the beach, under the full moon, with a bunch of Witches.”

Jensen actually flinched at the slur and thought _sorry_ at Jared across the bond.

Jared turned sideways so that he was facing Jensen. “You’re feeling ashamed?”

Jensen nodded. “Not of you or us or anything we did. Of them. Of their attitudes. I’m so pissed off at them. But at the same time, they’re my family. I love them. I want them to love me. I want them to love you. And,” Jensen broke off and stared down at the quilt cover. “And that ain’t gonna happen. This. You and me. It’s gonna cost me my family. But God help me, Jared… _Goddess_ help me… I want it anyway.”

Jared reached forward and took Jensen’s hands in his. “My family is going to love you,” he said. “And maybe your family won’t react as badly as you think they will.”

Jensen laughed, an ugly, humorless sound. “Oh they’re gonna react badly, trust me. You don’t know who my family is. And I doubt _your_ family is gonna love _me_ when they find out who I am,” his eyes flicked to Jared’s. “I know you’re still gonna love me, you and I, we don’t really have a choice in this.”

It occurred to Jared as he sat facing his soulmate and holding his hands that they’d never actually exchanged family names. In the face of their soulbond, it just hadn’t seemed all that important.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll bite. What’s your family name? Who are you?”

“My name’s Jensen Ackles,” he said, and Jared very nearly dropped his hands, except that would have sent the wrong message.

Jared stared into his soulmate’s worried green eyes and then he smiled, his smile broadening until it became a laugh, and then he did have to let go of Jensen, because he was shaking so much with laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Jensen grumbled, but he was grinning now too.

“It kind of is,” Jared said. “And yeah, it kind of isn’t. Oh boy. This is really gonna shake things up,” he cleared his throat. “So you’re the current Holy Fire Patriarch’s grandson?”

Jensen shook his head. “Great nephew. Not close enough family to be watched all the time, but close enough that this is gonna throw a real spanner in the works.”

Jared scooted over right next to Jensen and put an arm around his shoulders, reveling in the fact that his soulmate sank into the embrace without thought. “My family name is Padalecki” he said, and felt Jensen tense beside him.

“As in…Jezebel Padalecki?”

Jared laughed. “My mom’s name is Jessica. Jezebel is just what your former Church likes to call her.”

“My mom hates her,” Jensen said matter-of-factly. “On account of that time when they went head-to-head on that Fox News talk show and your mom made her look like a bigoted idiot. Which, you know, is fair, because she is one.”

Now it was Jared’s turn to tense. “Your mom is Naomi Ackles?”

At Jensen’s nod he chuckled softly. “Oh boy, I really hope the Powers that Be know what they’re doing here.”

Jensen looked up at him from where he was tucked under Jared’s arm and then he leaned up and kissed him, a slow, gentle kiss. “I got a feeling they know exactly what they’re doing,” he said. “You and me, we’re the way forward, remember? The path to the light.”

Oh yeah. That. Jared groaned. “We should probably put some clothes on then,” he said. “Because it sounds like we’ve got work to do.”

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed the story! :)
> 
> The story's title comes from the Jay Hawkins song of the same name. The chapter titles are from the names of chapters in the book Malleus Maleficarum.
> 
> And now for some thank yous. Firstly, thank you as always to my magnificent beta reader 9tiptoes, who battled stupidly long working hours as well as rain and sleet and snow (so much snow) to bring me my beta read copy of the story! Thank you T! You're a legend. :) As per usual, I tinkered after the final beta read. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Secondly, a huge thank you to bumerbmw for the original art piece and seed of an idea that inspired me so much! I've really enjoyed writing this and I love all the art you put together for the story! :)
> 
> And last but not least, the intrepid spn_reversebang mods who work hard every year to make this challenge happen. I love this challenge to bits and I'm so happy I got the opportunity to play again this year!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Put a Spell On You (Because You're Mine) Podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571430) by [Not_a_Mastermind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_a_Mastermind/pseuds/Not_a_Mastermind)




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